by Lexie Ray
Chapter One
Andrea Chin shuffled through her portfolio, organizing the dozens of dress designs, material swatches, and model photographs into neat stacks. It was far too late to make any real changes to her line-up, but the process calmed her nerves.
This was all new to her and her models. Not so much the threatening letters. Every public figure had a few fans that crossed the line. But this was the first time that ignoring them had escalated the situation. Now, days away from the show where her private collection would be exhibited for the first time, Andrea couldn’t guarantee the safety of her team.
When she had stumbled across Mads’ company, it had seemed like the answer to everything. They specialized in helping deter stalkers. What she hadn’t expected was how long it would actually take to get a face-to-face meeting with the agency. Apparently, there were thousands of people out there who needed Mads’ very specific services, which was more than a little disconcerting. Up until now, all their interactions had been over the phone while he was jumping from continent to continent. Today was going to be their first actual meeting, and Andrea had no idea why that made her so nervous.
Maybe it was because she wasn’t one-hundred percent sure of who she was going to be talking to. At first, all the telephone conferences had been between her and Mads himself. But about a month back, Mads had been contacted for a case that had required his immediate attention. So, Andrea had begun working with some other members of his staff, specifically Jamie and Jai. They seemed competent enough, but being told that her problem was going on the back burner had left a sour taste in Andrea’s mouth.
She smiled as she filed the last of the sheets neatly into her case. Everything was perfectly organized. A heartbeat passed before she took the papers all out again and spread them over the small café table once more. Maybe it was better to file them by date of creation, she thought to herself.
She jumped when a man suddenly slid into the seat opposite her. The metal chair looked like a kid’s toy beneath the man’s sizable bulk. He had to be pushing seven feet tall, with shoulders wide enough to contain the Grand Canyon and a solid, muscular frame that no shirt could completely conceal.
Dark hair tumbled around his face and onto his shoulders while a thick, neatly trimmed beard framed his jaw. A scar severed his left eyebrow, adding to the list of features that, by all rights, should have made his appearance menacing. His broad smile, however, left him looking surprisingly friendly.
“Hi.”
Andrea marveled for a moment at how he managed to make his deep voice sound so chipper.
“Hello,” she said slowly, and glanced around.
The small plate clattered against the only patch of exposed tabletop as he placed it down with a flourish. His grin grew wider as he waited for her reaction. Her first one was, how long was he watching me to know that I was eyeing the red velvet cake?
And her second was that, despite the early hour, she really wanted that sugar. The neon blue icing was unnaturally tempting.
“It’s a cupcake to celebrate your good taste in men,” he said happily.
Andrea hadn’t heard that one before. Normally, she wasn’t much of a fan of pick-up lines, but this time she found herself struggling to keep her expression neutral. His smile was contagious.
“I take it this ‘good taste’ involves you.”
“Whoa, there. Moving a bit fast, don’t you think?” He hummed thoughtfully, but continued before she could think of something to say. “You know what? I should be more adventurous. I will go out with you.”
Andrea let out a soft burst of laughter as she gave into her smile. “I didn’t ask you out.”
“You didn’t?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? I could have sworn.”
“I did not ask you out.”
“Welp.” He exaggerated some embarrassment that she knew he didn’t feel. “Is my face red?”
“Not even a little.”
“Strange. Oh, hey, next time I see you, do you mind if I take a shot at flirting with you?”
“This isn’t you flirting?” she asked.
“I won’t mean anything by it, mind you, so don’t get any ideas. I just obviously need to practice if I misread your intentions this badly.”
“I didn’t have any intentions. You came up to me.”
He made a noncommittal noise. “That’s not how I remember it.”
Andrea laughed despite herself, shaking her head as she looked away. It was the oddest sensation to be both annoyed and endeared at the same time. She was still trying to decide which way she was going to react when a series of beeps caught her attention. Her brow furrowed.
“Is that the Spiderman theme song?”
The man looked at his thick wrist and fumbled his massive fingers over the strip of bright red and blue plastic that enclosed it.
“Is that a Spiderman watch?”
“You will not believe how long it took to find this in my size.” His pride was evident as he turned off the alarm. “How is that the time? What time have you got?”
He reached across the table and grabbed her hand with a gentle touch. “Oh, shit, they are not going to be happy with me. Again. Maybe I should get them cake. Naw, then I’d have to listen to the health lectures.”
Dismissing the thought, he turned to her, his smile settling back into place. “I’ve got to go now that we’ve mutually decided to be friends instead of exploring a more primal, physical relationship.”
“I’m concerned that this is actually how your memory works,” she cut in.
He blinked. “Putting those hurtful words aside, do you mind if I have the bottom half of that cupcake?”
“The bottom half?”
“I know, I’m kind of a jerk for taking the best part.”
Andrea pressed the fingertips of one hand into her temple. “No one has ever said that about a cupcake, ever.”
“Um, yeah, they have. It’s a commonly known fact.”
“The top half of the cupcake is best.”
“What?” He stretched out the word to fully show his shock.
“The top has all the icing.”
“The bottom has all the cake.”
Andrea opened her mouth before she realized that she was actually arguing about the merits of cupcakes with a grown man who proudly wore a Spiderman watch. The situation was just too bizarre.
She waved her hand at the cupcake. “You can take whatever you want.”
“Does that include your number?” he asked with a playful grin.
“No.”
“Would it change your mind if I used an eyebrow wiggle? I’m very good at those.”
“You can ask any way you want, and the answer is still going to be no.”
Now that she had given into smiling, it was hard to stop. It was fun to have a mindless conversation again. For months, every word she had spoken had been carefully chosen to ensure it didn’t scare off a model, lose a sponsor, or completely ruin her career.
Dwayne reacted to the words with a look of shock, and he pressed a hand against his chest like an offended southern belle. “That seems unnecessarily mean.”
Andrea smirked. “I’m sure the bottom half of the cupcake will ease the burn.”
“It really will.” He swiftly ripped the cupcake in two and popped the entire hunk of cake into his mouth. “Okay, I—” his words cut off as he gave a sinful moan.
The sound prompted a part of Andrea’s brain to point out that the man was actually pretty sexy. She silenced that part quickly and hoped that he didn’t notice her expression.
“So good,” he mumbled around the mouthful. He checked his watch and stood up. “Enjoy the cupcake, have a fantastic day, and I’ll flirt with you later.”
Before she could respond, he was already out the door and bolting down the street. Andrea watched him until he dipped out of sight, and then continued to watch for a moment longer. She wasn’t quite sure what had just happened, but she couldn’t wi
pe the smile off her face.
***
Willow Miller lifted her head as the small bell over the door chimed. Mads Latvis always seemed a little out of place among the rows of flowers and potted plants that filled her small store. Perhaps it was because of the refined air that followed him as loyally as the soft scent of his expensive cologne. Or maybe it had something more to do with the tailored suits, perfect hair, and perfect cheekbones. It was a perfection she hadn’t seen face-to-face in a few months.
She glanced up at him in greeting as she made the last ties in twine to keep the bouquet together. Automatically, she did a double take. A dark bruise covered one of his sharp eyes, and a thin cut sliced over the bridge of his nose. Those imperfections drew more attention than the box he was carrying.
“Did Daren hit you again?”
Whatever his initial reaction was, it was swiftly hidden under his layers of painfully refined manners. Sometimes, Willow wondered if he used all that propriety and courtly behavior as a smokescreen. You never had to deal with the consequences of insulting someone when they didn’t know you were insulting them.
“Good morning, Willow. I trust this past month has been pleasant for you.”
It really hadn’t been, and it hit her once more how long it had been since she had seen Mads. Since her business was directly under his office space, it was common for them to see each other, at least in passing, almost every day. Before he had left, their friendship, such as it was, had progressed. After closing, she could go upstairs and they would have a drink together.
They had only been a new thing, but somehow, subtracting their daily encounters had been a vast shift in her routine. Willow was surprised at how she had grown used to having Mads around. Pushing the thought aside, she rounded the counter and reached for the swollen puff of his cheek. It looked painful.
“So, it was Daren? What did you do now?”
“First of all, my altercation with Daren was more than three months ago, and he has forgiven me for precipitating the event.”
“You used his girlfriend’s daughter as bait.”
“It was the only way to lure out the child’s stalker. She was never in any immediate danger. And one could argue that Rebecca would not be Daren’s girlfriend if I had not acted as I did.”
Willow cocked an eyebrow as she continued to study his wounds. “You gave them some alone time to hump like rabbits. You weren’t exactly Cupid.”
“You’ll find that, in mythology, Cupid arguably did little more than that.”
“I’m walking away from that conversation.” It would undoubtedly be longwinded and presented much like a college lecture. “What happened to your face?”
While Mads didn’t look too happy about it, he stood still and let her look her fill. “Our last client had a stalker that proved to be a little more volatile than expected. Which brings me to why I’m here.”
“That’s a weird segue.”
Mads put the box he was carrying on the countertop beside them.
“This particular gentleman held the belief that if he gifted women with a variety of presents, they would overlook the fact that he was holding them as prisoners in a basement.”
“That’s not the kind of thing we overlook,” Willow said as she leaned against the counter.
“The other women were of like mind. When they were released, many of them rejected all the things that he had given them. It was then that I recalled your earlier request.”
It took her a moment to remember it. It was a while ago, when Mads had first started to help Rebecca, a stunt rider for a traveling carnival. Daren had been assigned to go undercover as a rodeo rider. Through a series of mistaken deliveries and flimsy locks, a horse had ended up escaping and eating half of Willow’s stock. Mads had been quick to apologize.
Actually, he had been so agreeable with her list of demands that she had just kept upping the ante, if only to see where he would draw the line. In all honesty, she was okay taking the financial hit in exchange for what she had gotten to learn on that day. Namely, that Mads had played polo in high school – which still made her smile – and that big, burly Dwayne was freaked out by horses.
But now, as she tried to remember all her demands, she couldn’t remember what she had asked for that he had yet to deliver. Then Mads reached into the box, and a small, muffled yelp drew her attention.
“You got me a puppy?”
“To be completely candid, the young lady in question didn’t want to keep the animal. It was to go to the pound, but I thought to use it to settle the last of my debt with you.”
The caramel ball of fluff he pulled out of the box began to yelp as Mads dangled it from the scruff of its neck.
“Don’t hold him like that,” Willow said as she bundled the small dog into her arms.
“It’s a pup. Its parental units would carry it as such.”
The puppy happily curled into Willow’s arms as she narrowed her eyes at Mads. “Parental units?”
A hint of annoyance flashed across his face. It was quickly lost as he smoothed his features into a tranquil mask.
“My apologies if I misspoke. English is my eighth language, and I often miss the nuances.”
She had to smile. Mads was using his elegance to hide his snark. He made throwing shade an art form.
Willow drew her attention back to the bundle in her arms. Normally she preferred larger dogs, but the little thing with a snub face was quickly growing on her.
“It’s a Shih Tzu, right?”
“A Brussels Griffon. The dark humor of that had been lost on him.” Willow watched him for a moment before he realized that it was lost on her as well. “Griffons were originally bred to be watchdogs. They were a particular favorite among noble women, used to raise the alarm if anyone tried to sneak into their bed chambers.”
“Oh,” she said as she scratched at the dog’s ear. It immediately began to chew on her fingertip. “What’s his name?”
“The original owner refused to name it,” Mads said. “I’ve taken to calling it Brahms.”
The dog instantly stopped nipping at her and whipped around to face Mads. Apparently, it had taken to the name.
“You realize that I was just joking when I asked you for a puppy, right?”
“If you do not want Brahms–” Mads reached for the dog.
Willow twisted slightly to shield the puppy with her shoulder. “It’s rude to snatch, Mads.”
His lips quirked in a smile. “My apologies.”
She smoothed a hand through the puppy’s fluffed fur, her insides warming as it snuggled against her. It seemed to be a sweet-natured little thing. Although, she could have gone without it being so obviously devoted to Mads.
“Thanks,” she said as the doorbell chimed and Brahms went into a flurry of yelps.
They turned to see a woman enter. She was slender, with a naturally delicate frame, and her Chinese heritage present in her features. Her slacks and silk shirt hugged her in a way that was professional but didn’t shy away from emphasizing her figure.
Willow’s first thought was that this woman had to be a friend of Mads’.
“Excuse me,” the woman said. “Do you know how to get to the offices upstairs?”
Willow glared at Mads, a friendly reminder that she had once again been proven right. She had told him a dozen times to put up a sign and stop this constant stream of confusion, but he always refused. He spared Willow a quick glance, just enough for her to know that he still had no intention of conceding defeat.
“You must be Ms. Chin,” Mads said smoothly. “So wonderful to finally meet you in person. I’m Mads Latvis.”
“Oh, yes.” She took Mads’ hand and gave it a solid shake.
Her eyes darted to Willow, and Mads was quick to make the introductions.
“Willow, this is Ms. Chin. Ms. Chin, may I introduce Willow Miller, the owner of this store, and my personal friend and trusted confidante. You can talk in front of her with the utmost confidence.”
Willow glanced at Mads as she shook hands with Andrea. She had never actually heard Mads address her like that. For some reason, it felt significant. Like a confirmation that their relationship had shifted.
“Thank you for meeting me,” Mads continued. “I have a proposition that may seem disagreeable with you at first. I’ll ask you to keep an open mind.”
“I want this to be over with,” the woman said. “Whatever it takes.”
“The easiest way would be to put one of my men undercover in your show.”
The woman’s eyebrows jumped. “Um, maybe.” She put her weight on her back foot as she looked Mads over carefully. “You’ve got some good height and some striking features. I like the cheekbones, but it might take a bit to hide the, um …” She swiped a hand to indicate his face. “Damage?”
“I do not mean myself,” Mads said, with only the slightest trace of shock. “I have someone else in mind that I believe will be more suitable.”
Chin huffed out her helpless frustration. “The show is in a few days. I just need my models to know they’re safe wearing my clothes.”
“We can ensure that,” Mads said as he swiftly ushered the woman toward the door.
Willow stood for a moment before calling after him, “Did she just say that you could be a runway model?”
Chapter Two
Dwayne popped a bit of candy into the air and twisted around until he caught it in his mouth. He shot both arms over his head in victory, ready for Jai to begin applauding.
With his feet still on the table, the former military doctor spread the book he was reading out over his thighs and clapped. It was an unenthusiastic sound, and wholly unsatisfying. The long, dark ringlets of Jai’s hair hid his face. He didn’t even look up.
With his hands still in the air, Dwayne turned to Jamie. The Prince Charming lookalike was busy with paperwork but didn’t have to look up to know he had Dwayne’s focus. It was probably all that Navy SEAL training. Made him paranoid. He lifted his hands just high enough that Dwayne could see them over the computer monitor and clapped.
“I don’t feel like anyone is giving me the proper attention I’m entitled to and shamelessly crave,” Dwayne said. He turned to his last hope. Daren sat on the small sofa that Mads had insisted on putting next to the door. “Daren?”